


Dreams

by NormalFreeZone



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mild non-con, Sleep Walking, Wolf Derek, a broken clock, sleep molesting, sorry I had a phase of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:59:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NormalFreeZone/pseuds/NormalFreeZone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek’s been having strange dreams, but it seems they could be more than dreams. And more like Derek’s wolf coming out to play while he sleeps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> unbetaed. I guess I went through a phase of animalistic Derek. XD Another one from my tumblr

When the dreams first started Derek was disturbed by them, but didn't think much of them. He woke up just before dawn in his car, parked in the drive way of the burnt remains of his childhood home. He honestly hadn't remembered going to sleep there, he couldn't remember going to sleep at all. All he could remember where flashes of his dream. Vivid and graphic, it came back to him in pieces. The clearest part being the beginning. He remembered Stiles. Derek remembered snarling and advancing on the younger male fully intent on something. The smell of fear rolled off Stiles in waves, as the teenager had tried to defend himself with his lacrosse stick. Which Derek had snatched from his hands and broke it in half easily. And after that... Derek tried to push the memories away. They were just dreams, and Derek hated his dreams.

It didn't surprise him though. Most of his dreams were like that, nightmares that haunted him into the daylight. Guilt ridden false memories of seeing his families painful death. Watching each one of them burn, all while they called him name. All of them begging to be saved, even though he hadn't even seen the house until after the fire, and their bodies were removed. He had dreams about running and pain. Even his own pain, using his own claws to tear out his insides. Dreams about the beast inside breaking loose and ripping apart the people in his life. He remembered a graphic one where he had broken Scott's arm just above the elbow with a sickening crack. Than proceeded to bend it until he tore the limb from the other werewolf's body. After waking up Derek had panicked quickly dressed, than speed into town to check on Scott. He had found Scott perfectly healthy and fine, a large smile on his face as he made his way into class.

Derek was sadly getting used to his graphic violent nightmares.

But this one was different. With so many of the ones before, Derek had woken up in the morning tired and panicked. Exhausted from the demons that plagued him in the night. But this dream was different, as Derek had pulled himself from the front seat of his car with a yawn, he felt rested.

The second dream, more than a week later, was when Derek became suspicious. He woke up out stretched on the floor, next to the cot he had set up, tangled in blankets. The simple fact that he hadn't moved, save for rolling off the cot, crushed his suspicions of his dream being reality. But his dream was confusing.

So vivid. It almost felt real. Derek remembered being in the woods, running. He was on a mission. Next he remembered standing. Waiting. His feet digging into the cool damp grass. And than he was there. Standing before him suddenly, was the one he had waited for. The familiar face. The voice. The eyes. The lips. He knew who it was, but at the same time he couldn't remember, like puzzle that his brain refused to solve. The dream had become truly strange after that. Derek remembered blood. It was his own blood, his claws had extended, digging into the palm of his hand, covering his finger in red. Derek remembered reaching out. His blood covered hand reaching out for the oh so familiar face. His finger brushed against warm flesh, smearing a trail of blood. His thumb brushed across those lips. It seemed like all he could remember was those lips for so long, and how much he wanted them. But he couldn't move, he wouldn't move. Everything was so quiet. Just the sound of their heartbeats. Their breathing. The last Derek remembered was bringing his blood covered thumb to his own lips, as he had continued to stare at the familiar pair of lips in front of him, and his own blood as it trailed down the others chin.

Those lips. Something inside him knew them.

After waking Derek had spent half the day staring at his clean hands, thinking. Confused. They were clean, but deep under his nails were flakes of dried blood. Nothing had ever felt so real. It had taken days to push the dream out of his mind, and even after that he still felt awkward being around the others. It felt like they knew. He glared harder at everyone, snapped easier, over less. But Derek was determined to gain control again. These dreams... these nightmares were NOT going to get the better of him. A stupid dream about blood and a pair of lips wasn't going to get to him. He'd been dreaming of the flesh being burned from his mothers body for years, he could handle this. This dream was nothing.

But every time a lingering memory of the dream brushed across his mind: blood, lips, the cool of the grass on his feet. Something deep in side of him shifted. And with every time he remembered it, he could feel the wolf deep inside growl, and rise closer to the surface.

Than the third dream came. Derek had woken up in the woods, half naked and covered in dirt and leaves. Something was going on. Derek didn't know what yet, but he was sure now. He didn't just sleep walk.

He remembered less of the third dream than any of the others. But he remembered that it wasn't him, it was his wolf. Derek remember warmth, pleasure, and his wolf was satisfied. He remembered the brush of skin against skin. He remembered it on his face, on his body. It wasn't sexual, but yet it was. It was comforting. It was something Derek hadn't felt in years. A feeling that had been lost for so long.

Getting up from the piles of leaves he had been sleeping in, Derek had tried to sent the air. All he could smell was the woods. His boxer briefs were damp. It seemed he had taken a dip in a creek. Or maybe it was better to say his wolf had.

Derek had pushed the third dream from his mind easily, he had bigger things to worry about. The full moon was just a day away, and apparently the beast inside of him was taking him on night time romps. He still felt rested, even satisfied. The deep contentment of his beast making it easier for Derek to handle everyday stresses. The full moon that loomed close, didn't stress him as much as he had wanted it to. That contentment was what frustrated him. He couldn't let his wolf be in control. For the first time in years, Derek had considered chaining himself up.

But how much of it was real? Was any of it real?

Thinking about it, Derek thought he could handle night time runs in the woods. Wet clothes from the creek, muddy feet, leaves in his hair. As long as no one saw him. Another option he had considered was letting his wolf out more often. Maybe he just needed a run. Maybe that's all it was doing.

But like a ringing in his ear, Derek knew it was more.

A day until the fool moon.

And those lips.

Every time the thought flashed through Derek's mind he could feel his wolf give a growl of contentment. But who was it?

After washing and dressing, Derek has spent the next day trying to follow his own sent. No matter how faint, but it had only lead him in circles. It lead him to everyone he knew. All the people it should lead him to, that faintly carried his sent from simply being a companion. His beta's were preparing for the full moon in their own ways. Isaac had taken charge, and had made this his personal project to make sure no one would be loosing control or escaping. Scott and Stiles had even been preparing. Despite Scott's growing control. They had ignored him, when his trail had lead him to them. Isaac had set up something for Scott even, but that wasn't enough for Stiles. Stiles always had to push his way into being involved.

The two had paused for a minute, Stiles shot a rambling sarcastic remark at Derek, and Scott to tell him, he would meet at the train station at 8 P.M. with extra chains, and locks. Thanks to Stiles.

Derek couldn't bring himself to glare at them. Despite how much he knew he should have. There was just something aching familiar them. About him. About...

Derek had crushed that thought process, and deep in side of him, his beast growled.

The full moon came and Derek had fought to stay awake. To stay in control. They all had. Some had succeeded. Some of them had not. But Derek had stayed in control. Derek had stayed awake until he was sure it was safe. Just an hour before dawn Derek let himself drift off to sleep, slump in a dirty seat of the abandoned subway train.

Despite his fighting, the fourth dream came. It was skin, and touch, and pleasure again. His tongue ran over hot flesh, and his wolf gave a pleased growl. Derek nuzzled his face in to any open piece of flesh he could find. Smelling it. Tasting it. Running his hands over it. All he wanted was it to smell like him, and only him, and no one else, ever again. A stifled moan, and a pair of hands running over his shoulders and down his arms, letting him know that his wolf wasn't alone. But his wolf wanted more. Not just the comfort of touch and taste. It wanted real satisfaction. Derek felt denim under his face and hands, as his claws extended tearing into the denim. In the distant haze he could hear a voice. But that was nothing to his beast. Derek took a piece of denim between his teeth trying to tug open the simple button and get at his prize below. The voice came again, this time louder than....

CLANG!

With a sudden shock of pain and a bright white light, Derek found him sitting on the floor. He blinked, trying to clear is vision of bright colorful spot, as his hand moved to hold the quickly dulling pain on the side of his head. As his vision cleared Derek realized several things. First, he wasn't in the subway car, where he had fallen asleep. Second, he was shirtless. Finally third, someone was talking to him, and wouldn't shut up. They where rambling at him.

Rambling on and on...

"I am so sorry dude! Don't kill me." Were the first words Derek could actually make out, and then there was more rambling.

Derek blinked and looked around. He recognized where he was but... He looked up to who was talking. He recognized him too. That face. Those lips. _Those_ lips. Derek blinked again. The voice was what gave it away more than anything.

"Shut up, Stiles." Derek rubbed the side of his head one more time, taking a good look at Stiles.

Stiles sat up straight and shirtless, as he knelt on the edge of his bed. "Hey dude, I tried to warn you! I was totally defending myself! You were like going all creepy rapist on me. And you totally ripped my jeans. And you broke my alarm clock."

Stiles presented the shattered plastic mess that had clearly once been a functioning alarm clock, with one hand, while his other was motioning to the rips in his jeans.

"What the hell is going on?" Derek glared up at Stiles, confused. The faint memories of one of his strange life like dreams coming back to him.

Those words shut Stiles up as his face twisted into silent panic and guilt. Stiles knew what was going on. Derek could smell it on him. Derek could smell... himself on Stiles. The memories of his dream became clearer.

"I... you.. uhm." Stiles tried to start but gave up tossing his broking clock to the side, and shifting to sit on his bed. "You were totally out of it man."

"I was dreaming." Derek's eyes were wide as he stared up at Stiles trying to convince himself this wasn't happening. Deep inside he could feel his wolf rumble, angry.

Stiles calmly shook his head. "No. You weren't" The younger man still looked like he was still struggling to say something. To explain it all. "It wasn't bad. I mean... like.. until the whole 'I'm gonna rip your jeans off' creepy rapist thing."

Derek pushed himself back against the wall, still sitting on the floor, his eyes drifting off as he tried to absorb everything. It was real. But what about the other dreams? His eyes flash back to Stiles, catching sight of the teenagers lips. He knew them.

"You've showed up a few times now. Like four now." Stiles said as if he could read the questions on Derek's face. "Your always in a daze, like your sleep walking. You like never say anything either. You just growl, and one time you broke my lacrosse stick. But you usually just wanted to... " Stiles trailed off for a second, swallowing hard.

"... touch me."

Derek sat watching Stiles for a long moment, his hand on his chest as he felt the beast in side him fight to get out. It wanted Stiles. It didn't want to hurt him. It wanted to touch him. Hold him. It wanted the strong, determined Stiles Stilinski in is arms, to feed off his sent and touch. It didn't shock him, honestly. What shocked Derek was that he wanted it too. His inner wolf had picked up on his suppressed urges and needs and taken upon its self to take it.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Stiles figdeted nervously, eyes flashing around, as he chewed on his bottom lip. "Like I said though. It wasn't so bad. Except for the whole trying to chew through my jeans. Which you only did once. The rest of the time it was like very above the belt stuff. You just like nuzzled and sniffed me like dog a lot. But tonight you were all about getting freaky. Well more freaky than usual."

Derek can't help but glare, its become the natural setting for his face. "I'm sorry."

Stiles managed a chuckle. "It cool. Just buy me another pair." The younger male brushed a hand back over his buzzed short hair.

Without realize Derek found his eyes back on Stile's lips. It was always Stiles in the dreams. It was always his skin. His lips. Those distant moans as his tongue swept across his skin.

"I'm sorry." Derek said again standing slowly.

"I said its cool man. Next time you crawl through my window to make out though make sure your not sleep walking. And don't stand in the back yard for hours, its really creepy. I know your the king of creeping and all but, that’s a new level of weird." Stiles picked up on rambling again.

As the sun rose, the light began to drift in through Stiles' open bedroom windows. Despite the now healed head wound from a clock, Derek figured its a hell of a lot better than waking up in the woods. Stiles continued to talk, following Derek as he stood, talking himself in circles. Pointing out how it was Derek being weird, yet dropping hints that he would like it to happen again.

Deep inside Derek could feel his wolf rise. It wanted something. And for once Derek didn't deny it, or force it back. Stepping up quickly, Derek pressed his lips to Stiles', shutting him up. There was a reason he had always thought of Stiles' lips. They weren't amazing. They were slightly chapped. But they were his, and Derek could swear he could almost feel Stiles' spirit through them. Derek couldn't help but smell him. He recognized it. Before Derek could realize what he was doing he rested his forehead against Stiles' Usually after one of those dreams he felt so rested, but not this night. The clock thing, and the healing, all of it, had sucked away whatever he had gotten from his sleeping adventures.

"You look tired as hell." Stiles whispered quietly trying not to chuckle.

Derek just groaned and nodded his head, forehead still pressed to Stiles'.

"Do you wanna crash here?" Stiles whispered again a little louder.

Derek merely nodded, his eyes falling shut.

"We're gonna talk about this when you wake up right?" Stiles actually said this time, trying to be serious. "Cuz you've been doing this for like almost a month now and I would like to know what the hell is going on and if I'll gonna keep having random sleep-walking-make-out sessions with you?"

Deep inside Derek feels his beast shift. Just like Stiles', it wont take no for an answer. They would be continuing. Minus the sleep walking. Derek wanted to experience too, and in more than just a hazy blur.

"Yes. We'll talk. Sleep." Derek said, trying not to sound too annoyed or tired. Luckily Stiles ignored his tone. Like he usually did, and sat down on his bed with a smirk, waiting for Derek to join him. They didn't really need to talk, they both had their answered.

Derek sat down on the bed next to Stiles' ready to flop over, exhausted and satisfied. Deep down, Derek could feel, for the first time, in a very long time both he and his wolf were completely content.


End file.
